Not the Last
by Saran VD
Summary: Sequel to MIMI'S SECRET. Includes pretty much everything I said it would. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Thanks to all who read and reviewed _Mimi's Secret_. If you're reading this fic and HAVEN'T read _Mimi's Secret_, I advise you to click on my name and read it. There are spoilers afoot (well it IS a sequel…) So here goes. All Melodie's POV, unless I say otherwise. She's about thirteen years old (her b-day's New Year's Day, in case you were wondering).**

**Oh yeah, and because as she grows up she becomes a Broadway addict, I have taken time to find songs from musicals that are relevant to the plot of the chapters. So the lyrics below are from the song "Stranger to the Rain" from the musical _Children of Eden_ and are © Stephen Schwartz (yes, _that_ Stephen Schwartz…)**

Not the Last 

**Chapter 1 **

_Orphan in the storm,_

_That's a role I've played before._

_I've learned not to tremble_

_When I hear the thunder roar._

_I don't curse what I can't change_

_I just play the hand I'm dealt._

_And when they lighten up the rations_

_I tighten up my belt._

_I won't say I've never felt the pain._

_But I am not a stranger to the rain.

* * *

_

I sat in my bedroom, doing homework, when Mark came home from work that day. September 11, 2001. I remembered how I had seen _something_ weird out of the window during math that morning, but our stupid teacher just ignored it. So, with my friend Beth's advice, I decided to ask Mark about it. After all, he _was_ in charge of Buzzline's occasional non-tabloid reports. As soon as I heard him call for me (his typical, "Mellie! I'm home!), I would run over there, right?

Well, just to mess up my plans, he didn't call and announce his arrival. And when I realized he was home, he was in his own room with the door locked.

So there went asking for Mark's help. I decided to just watch Buzzline and find out.

At six o'clock sharp, Mamá and Roger got home. Buzzline had already started, so I was sitting in front of our ancient TV, watching the news (well, nothing else was on anyway!).

"Hey, baby girl," said Mamá as she walked in.

"SH! The TV!" I snapped.

"So the TV's more important than I am?" she teased.

"For the time being, yes."

"What is on that's so important?" she asked, coming next to me in front of the TV.

I couldn't talk anymore. I was too horror-struck. Footage was playing of the Twin Towers crumbling. Footage by Mark Cohen, to boot.

"Oh my God! JODER!" Mamá swore, something that she NEVER did in front of me, especially in Spanish. But there she was, swearing at the images on the TV screen.

"What's happening?" said Roger, eternally the slow one of the loft. He, too, rushed in front of the TV, blocking my view.

"_Roger_!" I whined. He laughed and moved out of the way, sitting next to me on the well-worn couch.

Roger stared. "Holy sh-"

"Roger, if you're going to swear, swear in another language, please." Mamá smiled and jabbed her thumb in my direction.

"Mamá, you know I hear that all the time at school, right?" I asked her during the commercial break.

"You're in eighth grade. You shouldn't be hearing swearwords in the hallways."

"Well, I do."  
"Plug your ears," Roger cut in.

The phone rang.

"SPEEAAAAAAAAK!" Our answering machine chorused.

"Hey, Mel," said Beth, beginning to leave a message.

I picked up. "Beth! Are you watching Buzzline?"

"Of course I am. You should…" her voice trailed off, and when Mamá and Roger stopped trying to eavesdrop on my conversation and we all turned our attention to Buzzline, I knew why.

Alexi Darling was listing passengers on the first plane. One of them was Robert O'Kiren. Beth's dad.

"OHMIGOD!" I shrieked.

Roger snorted in amusement. I slapped him on the shoulder.

Beth was sobbing.

"I- I- If you need help, don't be afraid to ask," I told her.

"No… I couldn't… your mom and step-dad… they… you guys don't have cash to spare."

"Who are you to say that?" I asked her. "I'm so sorry, Beth. Bet that your dad, Collins, and Angel are all having some exclusive party up there."

She laughed weakly. "I've gotta go calm Mom down. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

I nodded. "See you tomorrow." We hung up.

I turned to Mamá and Roger. They looked at me sadly. The only time I had seen Roger and Mamá this sad was at Collins's funeral two years ago.

"What the hell is this going to do to everyone?" Mamá asked sadly. I shook my head hopelessly, silent tears streaming down my cheeks. Mamá pulled me into a hug. "We'll be alright, honey," she said soothingly.

I pulled away and went into my room, finding comfort in the math problems. They had a definite answer; there was reason behind them, and the answers were something I could control. Much better than my life was at the moment.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Alright, because I totally have this thing against filler chapters, I'm fast-forwarding a LOT. Now Mel's in high school!**

**Today's lyrics are from _The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee_ and are © to William Finn. Song is called "Woe is Me". (I really don't know the relevance of these lyrics… I just thought that they were cool!)**

Not the Last

**Chapter 2 **

_Though I practice yoga, I don't breathe _

_I try not to disappoint,_

_But still I disappoint the dads _

_Who my friends mock_

_Kids're mean, kids'll talk._

_All my so-called friends roll their eyes _

_They're incredibly petty_

_Because my dads are my dads_

_And alright, enough, already!_

* * *

I sat down for the first day of high school, and my first biology class, nervous as I could be. I had only been in school for two class periods, and already I felt out of place. There were countless girls in designer tags, while I wore Mamá's old plaid mini-skirt and a plain black t-shirt from one of those second-hand clothing stores.

"What's your name?" asked the teacher when she noticed me.

"Marquez," I said. "Melodie Marquez."

"You sit over there, next to Jonathan."

I got up, blushing, feeling stupid for sitting in the wrong seat.

"You Melodie?" asked the boy I'd be sitting next to. He had jet-black hair and sky blue eyes. _Sky blue eyes?_

"Yeah. What's your name again?"

"Jonathan Letherson."

"Nice to meet you," I mumbled.

"Same."

We sat in silence, waiting for the passing period to end.

When it finally did, and everyone was seated and quiet, our teacher started talking, and I didn't listen to a thing that she said. Jonathan and I were passing notes under the desk.

"Where do u live?" he wrote.

"Y do u need 2 noe, stalker?" I wrote back.

"I am not a stalker!"

"JK! Jeez!"

"Well?"

"Well wat?"

"Where do u live?"

"U tell me 1st."

"8346 Something street"

"U don't noe?"

"Wat about u?"

"Bohemia."

"WTF?"

"Bohemia. U noe, the East Village?"

"…"

"Surprised?"

"Bit."

"How come?"

"U don't seem the type."

"Y not?"

"U don't have AIDS."

I crumpled the note and threw it aside. I sat like an angel and took notes for the rest of class like I was supposed to.

When the bell rang, Jonathan followed me out the door, confused. "Where are you going in such a hurry? Why did you crumple the notes? Was it something I said?"

I ignored him.

"Look, I'm sorry…"

"Don't you need to get to class?" I asked coldly.

"I'm going to 1232. It's this way."

I tried not to stop walking. "Me, too."

"Well, we'll probably end up next to each other again."

_Not if I can help it_, I thought to myself.

"What did I say to make you so mad?"

"You automatically assumed that since I'm Bohemian, logically I must have AIDS."

"Well, now I know that you don't. I'm sorry."

"That's not why I'm mad."

"Then why _are_ you mad?"

"I'll tell you later," I said as we walked into the classroom.

When the class ended, I told Jonathan why I was so pissed at him. "It's a long story…"

He shrugged. "It's fifth period now, right?"

I nodded. "Since bio was third… yeah, it's fifth."

"I have lunch. So do you."

"How'd you know that?"

"I saw your schedule. It was on the floor by your backpack."

"My friend Beth has lunch now, too."

"That was random."

"Your point?"

He smiled and shrugged, and we walked into the east café.

"MEL!" said Beth, jumping out of her seat. "OVER HERE!"

I laughed. "Calm down!" I sat next to her and pulled out my lunch. Jonathan sat next to me. "Beth, Jonathan, Jonathan, Beth."

They smiled shyly at each other.

"So, Melodie, what are you so pissed about?" Jonathan asked.

"You're already pissed at him, Mel?" asked Beth, shaking her head.

"Yeah."

"What did you do, Jonathan?"

"He assumed that since I live in the East Village, I have AIDS."

"Oh dear. You don't say that to Melodie, Jonathan. You have a lot to learn."

"Why not?" asked Jonathan.

I sighed. "It's a touchy subject for me, okay?"

"Why?"

I took a deep breath. "Well, my mom and step-dad are both… Do you swear you won't tell anyone?"

He nodded.

"Well, my mom and step-dad are both HIV positive and a couple of their friends died from it," I said quickly.

He gasped. "You're joking?"

"I'm not. I wish I was joking…"

He stared at me. "That's crazy! I mean, that's something that happens in _Rent_, not in real life!"

"What's _Rent_?" I asked him.

"Only one of the best Broadway musicals known to man. My mom saw it. She said it was amazing. It made her cry. I have the CD. Want me to bring it to school tomorrow?"

I nodded excitedly. A real Broadway musical! Mo was always gushing about them at home, so I was anxious to hear the CD. We never got a chance to listen to any good music at home unless Roger wrote it.

Beth gasped. "I've heard of _Rent_. I've heard it's amazing! Didn't Jonathan Larson, the guy who wrote it, die on opening night?"

"That was actually during previews," Jonathan corrected her.

"Whatever."

I decided that it was best to not get in the middle of their debate about whether previews and opening night were the same thing.

The period ended, and I finally got away from Jonathan. Beth and I headed to choir together.

"So, he's your lab partner. LUCKY!" Beth said.

"Huh?"

"He's _so_ _HOT_! And don't tell me you didn't notice. You notice everything about everyone."

I laughed. "I guess you're right about that… but I barely know him!"

"Oh, come on! He's a Broadway addict, and he knows _Rent_."

"What does the _Rent_ thing matter?" I asked her.

"Well… you'll see," Beth promised.

"Now I wanna know!" I pouted.

Beth laughed. "I don't want to ruin anything."

I sighed.

"Class! Class!" sang the choir director, creeping Beth and I out a bit. "Let us begin. We shall go around the room and say our names and what kind of music we like to listen to. That's what I'm going to base our repertoire in this class on. We'll start with you, in the plaid skirt."

I gulped. "Hi, everyone. I'm Melodie Marquez, and I listen to whatever kind of music my parents or friends are listening to." _Or that Roger's singing_, I added silently.

Everyone said their names and favorite music styles.

"Thank you, class. Now, next, we are going to sight-sing!" The teacher began passing out pages of music to everyone.

The title: _Seasons of Love_ from the Broadway musical _Rent_.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Finally an update! I bet you all were counting down until I updated this, and you kept checking to see if it was updated… don't deny it. You know you did.**

**Actually, you probably didn't, which I prefer, because if you_ did_ keep checking it, not only would I be a little scared of you, I would also feel under enormous pressure.**

**More lyrics! That's always fun… today's lyrics are… aw, forget it, I don't even need to tell you, just know that I didn't write them.**

**On with the fic!**

Not the Last

_525,600 minutes_

_525,600 moments so dear._

_525,600 minutes_

_How do you measure, measure a year?_

_In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee_

_In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife,_

_In 525,600 minutes_

_How do you measure a year in the life?_

_How about love?_

_How about love?_

_How about love?_

_Measure in love._

* * *

"Seasons of Love" wasn't nearly what I'd expected. I had expected some sappy, badly written love song. Instead, I got an awesome song with a gospel feel to it. There was even a solo that soared above the rest of the choir.

The class ended way too soon. I couldn't _wait_ to hear the rest of _RENT_ the next day at lunch.

"Hey, Mel," said Mark when I got home. "How'd high school go?"

"You're home early," I said to him.

"Alexi didn't need me. So, how'd it go?"

"Fine."

"Did you get lost?"

"No."

"Why are you so quiet?"

I shrugged. "No reason."

"If this is what high school is going to do to you, I'm going to make Roger and Mimi make you drop out."

"That didn't make much sense."

Mark sighed. "Guess what?"

I rolled my eyes. "What?"

"Maureen _finally_ got a part in something!"

"Really? Wow! What?"

"She's in _RENT_."

I gasped. "We're singing a song from that in choir! It was so beautiful… what part does she play?"

"She plays the mom of one of the leads."

I laughed. It was so unlike Maureen's personality. "Well, it's better than nothing."

Mark nodded. "I'm glad she finally stopped with the protests. Remember last year?"

I giggled. "Yep. 'I have a dream that homeless people won't be homeless people… and so does Elsie!'" I pretended to hold up a puppet. "'Today we gather to point out the wrongs in this world. Since this September, so many people have lost their lives to those motherfucking terrorists…'"

"You memorized it?"

I nodded and continued. "'And now, I ask you to ask yourselves, who in their right mind would do something as fucked-up as that? The answer, my friends, is terrorists. Stupid assholes.' And then Joanne yanked her off the stage because she didn't like what Maureen was saying."

"I can't believe you remembered all of that."

I shrugged. "What's Mo's part like, anyway?"

"She has an entire song to herself. 'Voicemail Number 1.'"

I snorted. "What kind of name is that?"

"I don't know."

"Hey, I'm home," said Mamá, throwing her purse onto the table. "What are you two rambling about?"

"Maureen got cast in a show," I told her.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Thank God. That means no more protests. 'I have a dream that homeless people won't be homeless people… and so does Elsie!'"

"Ok, Mimi, Melodie can do that, but you can't," said Mark.

"You can recite her protest from last Christmas, too?" asked Mimi.

I nodded.

"High five!" she said with a grin.

I laughed and left her hanging. "I have homework for you, Mamá."

She wilted. "I thought I was done with homework," she complained.

"Luckily, all you have to do is sign these papers!" I handed her the class policies for English, biology, Spanish, choir, algebra, global studies, and gym.

Mamá and Mark stared. "You have to get papers signed in _all_ your classes?" Mamá groaned.

I grinned. "I'm gonna go work on the solo for choir!" I skipped off to my room.

* * *

I met Beth at our locker the next morning. "Did you practice?"

"Practice what?" she asked.

"The solo for choir."

"You have to be kidding! You already are working on that?"

I nodded eagerly.

"Someone wants the solo _bad_," she teased.

I glared at her. "Yeah, I do. So what?"

She thought for a bit. "It's just obsessive. Do you need the locker?"

"Nah, you can close it."

"Jonathan's in the cafeteria. He brought his CD and his headphone splitter. Unfortunately, one of us won't be able to listen…" she pouted. "It's probably gonna be me."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Tough!" I snarled playfully, and we went downstairs.

* * *

"Hey, Jonathan," I said, sneaking up on him from behind. He wordlessly handed me the other pair of headphones. I put them on and sat next to him. Beth looked on sadly.

"December 24, 9 PM, Eastern Standard Time, from here on in I shoot without a script…" sang one of the characters. "See if anything comes of it, instead of my old shit…"

The second song was the one I paid attention to. "That was a very loud beep, I don't know if this is working Mark? Mark are you there? Are you screening your calls? It's mom…" I laughed at the thought of Maureen singing that.

The bell rang. I rushed to my first class.

"We'll finish listening to it during lunch!" called Jonathan before we went our separate ways. I nodded and waved.

I didn't pay any attention during algebra. Sitting in the back had its advantages. I began to sketch the first scene, imagining the characters sitting in their lofts on Christmas Eve.

We finished listening to all but the last three songs of the first CD during lunch. Beth and I headed to choir, and I couldn't help but find the irony. Now I knew why Beth and Jonathan wanted me to hear it so badly.

It was about my family. At least, it was about Mamá, Roger, Mark, Maureen, Joanne, Angel, Collins (RIP, I love you both!), and even Roger's dead ex-girlfriend April.

Wait until they heard about this.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I wanted to write this part. I have been _waiting_ to write this part. I'm so psyched to write this part. You get it.**

**So, today's lyrics… (Is thinking…) (Runs away to find lyrics) (Smacks self for not thinking of it sooner) Ok, today's lyrics are… again, I'm not going to tell you. You have to guess!**

Not the Last

_Chapter 4_

_This is weird.  
It's weird.  
Very weird.  
Fuckin' weird._

**  
**

When I got home from school, Maureen and Joanne were at the loft, making out. I rolled my eyes and turned away.

Joanne was the first one to pull away. "Hey, Mel. How was your day?"

I turned sharply to Maureen. "I heard the first part of the _RENT_ CD today."

Maureen's eyes widened. "You did? What'd you think?"

"Well, first of all, I _love_ your song."

Mo smiled and tossed her curls.

"But it was a little, for lack of a better word, _scary_."

"What's so scary about it?" asked Joanne.

"Do you want a snack, Melodie?" asked Maureen, quickly getting up and rushing to the kitchen.

"No thanks, Mo."

Maureen stayed in the kitchen anyway; most likely she was hiding from the explosion that she knew was inevitable.

"So, what's so scary 'bout _RENT_?" asked Joanne.

"ThemaincharactersarenamedRogerMarkMimiJoanneMaureenBennyCollinsandAngelandtheyliveinaloftintheeastvillage," I said quickly.

"What?"

I sighed. "The main characters are named Roger, Mark, Mimi, Joanne, Maureen, Benny, Collins, and Angel, and they live in a loft in the East Village."

Joanne shrugged. "Coincidence."

I relaxed. "I'm glad you feel that way."

"Why?"

"Because I don't think it's a coincidence, there's too much that's alike. They even have the same last names!"

"I doubt that it means anything…"

"Well," said Maureen, bustling out of her hiding spot in the kitchen, "even if it _was_ supposed to be about us, there are too many differences. For one thing, in the entire show, Jonathan Larson never says anything about a very important character."

"Who? Your parents?"

Maureen glared at me. "No. You."

"Me?"

"You."

"Hey, Mimi!" called Joanne as Mamá walked in. Roger was right behind her.

"What were you girls talking about?"

"Melodie's questioning her sexuality," said Maureen, clearly thinking of the first excuse that came to her mind.

Mamá looked at me with interest. "Are you?"

"No," I growled. "Maureen's fibbing."

"Good, you scared me for a minute," said Roger, then he stage-whispered to me, "I don't want you to start acting like _them_, if you know what I mean."

I grinned. Maureen frowned at us.

"So, then, what _were_ you discussing?" Mamá asked me.

"_RENT_."

"What about it? Your father said we don't need to pay anymore, so it's not a concern."

I ran my fingers through my messy waves. "Not that rent. The musical that Mo's in."

"What about it?"

"It's creepy."

"How come?"

"The main characters are named Roger, Mark, Mimi, Joanne, Maureen, Benny, Collins, and Angel, and they live in a loft in the East Village."

If Roger had been holding something, I'm certain he would've dropped it.

Mamá's jaw dropped. "You're joking."

I shook my head.

"So you honestly think it's about us?" asked Joanne.

Maureen, Mamá, and Roger nodded.

Mark randomly walked in. He laid his camera on the couch. "What are we agreeing to?"

"That_ RENT_ is about you people," I said.

"It's about us," said Mark.

"What? Mark, you don't even know what we're talking about!" complained Joanne.

"I know. I'm just agreeing with them," he said with a shrug.

Maureen was rummaging through her purse. "I bought the CD earlier. You were at work, Pookie," she said to Joanne.

"Ooh, yay!" I said.

Mo laughed. "How much have you heard?"

"Until the end of 'Over the Moon'."

"Hey, Honeybear, wasn't that the name of one of your protests? The one where Elsie made her grand entrance as the cow in Cyberland who wouldn't give you milk?"

"Yep."

"Can we listen to 'Over the Moon', Maureen?" I begged. "Please?"

"After 'Voicemail #1," she promised. I smiled happily.

Maureen, of course, sang along with the CD during her song.

Mark was surprised. "You sound just like my mother," he noted.

"Exactly," said Maureen. "I play Mrs. Cohen. Mark's mom."

Mark sat down in shock.

"You ok, Marky?" asked Roger, grinning broadly.

"No. I just found out that Maureen is playing _my mom_. I'm _scared_."

I laughed. "Come on, it can't be that bad."

Maureen accidentally skipped "Over the Moon", so "La Vie Boheme" started playing.

"No, please, no, not tonight, please no, mister can't you go, not tonight, can't have a scene," sang the manager.

I laughed. "He sounds like the manager does whenever we walk into the Life."

"That's who he is."

"_Now_ I know why you were so scared, Mellie," remarked Mark.

"I told you so."

"Mo, _why_ do you have to play _my_ mom? Why can't you play Roger's mom or something?"

"I can't help it! Besides, Voicemail #1 is funny," Maureen said defensively.

"This is so _weird_," said Mamá. "But I have one question."

She sighed. "What?"

"Who's playing Mel? Where did they find a two year old to play Mel?"

"Mel isn't in it," mumbled Maureen.

"WHAT?" gasped everyone except for Mo and me.

"I'm not in it. You didn't want anyone to know I existed, so yeah. I'm not in it," I explained.

"Your new boyfriend doesn't know about us?" the CD sang. I guessed that this was 'Benny'.

"There's nothing to know." That was 'Mimi'.

"Don't you think that we should discuss..."

"It was three months ago."

"Well, I'll tell you one thing," said Maureen, "they screwed up the timeline. Meems, you and Benny were together two years before you met Roger. And the whole first act happens on Christmas Eve. Including Maureen's protest. God, it's weird to talk about myself in the third person!"

"Then just say 'my protest'," I suggested.

"Good idea."

"What I want to know is how the hell Jonathan Larson found out about you guys," I said.

"There's only one of us that could have told him," said Roger.

"Who?" we all asked.

"Your father. Benjamin Coffin III."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: YAY! Now all the Bohemians get to go bother Benny! That's always fun… anyway, on with the fic.**

**Today's lyrics are… not gonna tell ya!**

Not the Last

Chapter 5

_Ev'ry little trait, however small  
Makes my very flesh begin to crawl  
With simple utter loathing  
There's a strange exhilaration  
In such total detestation  
It's so pure and strong!  
Though I do admit it came on fast,  
Still I do believe that it can last  
And I will be loathing  
Loathing you  
My whole life long!

* * *

_

Since we were all impulsive as hell, we immediately picked up the phone and called my father. He answered. Mamá put him on speaker so we all could talk to him.

"Hey, Benny," said Mark, trying to sound friendly.

"Hello, Mark. How are you?"

"Fine." Mark was stiff and uncomfortable.

"That's good."

"What do you want?"

"Do you know…"

"Did you know!" Maureen and I immediately corrected.

"What?" Mark asked us.

"Jonathan Larson is dead."

"Oh. Well then, Benny, _did you know_ anyone named Jonathan Larson?"

"Yeah. We were friends in high school. I sent him letters every so often and told him about you guys. Why?"

We all groaned. "Have you ever heard of _RENT_?" I asked him.

"Mel!" he said. "Good to hear from you! How are you?"

"Fine," I said through clenched teeth. "How's Mary Sue?"

"Oh, she's great."

I forced a smile. "Terrific."

"So, _RENT_? Never heard of it. Why?"

"Couldn't have known Jonathan Larson _too_ well, now could you?"

"He stopped sending me letters around 1993. The next I heard of him was at his funeral. Some people sang some songs that he wrote."

The CD was still out in the CD player. While everyone else gathered more evidence that Benny had told Jonathan Larson everything he needed to write the show, I looked at the song list, finally finding what I was looking for. I played the third to last song on the second CD. Roger's love song to Mamá, "Your Eyes," began playing.

"Did you tell your buddy Jonathan about this song, too?"

"I told him my friend Roger writes music, and he asked me to send him a song. So I sent him the demo tape of 'Your Eyes.'"

Mamá rubbed Roger's back soothingly.

"So, you did send him this song?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks, Benny. Tell Mary Sue I said hi."

"I will."

I hung up on him and turned to them all. Roger looked downcast, probably because someone had stolen his song. Mamá was comforting him. Mo and Jo were making out on the couch, and I rolled my eyes at them both. Mark looked at me as Finale B came on.

"So, what's the song you're singing in choir from this?" he asked me.

I leaped towards the CD player and skipped to the first song.

Mark nodded along to the beat of the song. "It's cool. I like it."

I sang along, taking my part as a soprano. When the solo came on, I sang that.

I loved the solo in "Seasons of Love". It was hard as hell, but so much fun to sing.

Roger smiled slightly as I hit the soaring high notes. "You should get it."

"That's only one solo. There are two more. They'll probably give that one to an older student. But that's the one I want the most."

He smiled at me. "I could coach you, if you want."

Maureen pulled away from Joanne. "No way! Who's the one actually in _RENT_? If anyone's gonna be Mel's voice teacher, it's gonna be me!"

I blushed.

Roger glared at Maureen, and then gave in. "Fine."

She smiled and acted like she was going to drag me into another room and start right away. I didn't let her. "I have homework," I explained.

Joanne straightened her clothes. "Roger, you could sue Jonathan Larson, you know."

"No I couldn't. It's not copyrighted."

"Yeah, but Jonathan Larson probably copyrighted it under his own name."

"It's not worth it."

"But…"

"Thanks, but no thanks."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

I grabbed my backpack and went to my room to work on homework, including an essay for algebra and a worksheet for English.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Haven't updated this one in a while! So, might as well:-) So, the update… yeah. I'll just get right to that…**

**Oh, and I totally gave up on the lyrics.**

**THIMBLES!**

**Saran VD**

Not the Last

_Chapter 6_

Maureen, as it happened, is a complete failure at giving voice lessons. Don't give me wrong, that woman can really _sing_ if she wants to. She just kind of fails at telling me her secrets.

"So, err… warm-ups!" said Maureen, sitting in front of her small electric keyboard. I had gone to her and Joanne's apartment after school for my first lesson, which was supposed to start at four. It was now six. "Yeah," she stuttered. "Mommy made me mash my M&M's," she sang on a downward scale. I repeated, trying not to laugh at the nonsense words.

Maureen, who was incredibly sensitive that day, thought that I was laughing at her, and looked angry as her fingers continued to change the key lower by half steps until I could barely sing the notes. "Maureen," I croaked, finally giving up, "you do realize that I'm a _soprano_, not a bass.

"Sorry," she mumbled, and continued the pattern, increasing it by half steps to the point that only a dog could have heard the notes. My vocal chords stopped working after about a high C.

"MAUREEN!" I shrieked.

"Oops."

I began to consider having Roger teach me after all.

That plan failed, too, because, as it happened he got a record deal with his band.

"WHAT?"

"Yeah, some guy saw us performing the other night and liked us. Turns out he was an agent," Roger shrugged.

"But… but…"

"I thought you'd be happy."

"I am," I sputtered, "but it seemed so unlikely that it would happen _now_. I mean, you're kinda…"

"Old?" he asked good-naturedly, and I nodded. "All the members of Bon Jovi are at least 40, and _they're_ still popular."

"Yeah, but they've been performing for twenty years."

Roger frowned; he couldn't argue with that.

"I win," I said with a smug smile.

"Yes, but think!" he said, getting that look he gets when he's come up with what he thinks is a good idea. "We could get out of here! Move someplace better! Wouldn't you like that?"

The loft had been my home for as long as I could remember. Leaving now, as a teenager, would be strange. And Roger wasn't really being fair. A couple years ago, Benny had us all stay at his place (except Mark had to go off to a hotel) while they renovated. It was one of the nicer apartments now. We Bohemians, though, kept remembering it in the old days, when we had to watch out for hookers and druggies and rebels (oh my!). Poor Roger was more stuck in that era than anyone else, including Mamá, who chose this crucial point of the dinner conversation to butt in.

"We are not leaving, even if we can afford to. Need I remind you that as long as Benny is our landlord, we don't pay a dime for our rent?"

Gracias, Mamá.

Roger scowled. "You really think that this is a good place to raise a child?"

I excused myself and let them keep arguing. The bad thing about the loft was that I could be in my room and hear the entire conversation that was going on in the kitchen.

* * *

It was a Saturday, and Maureen had rehearsal. Unable to think of a better solution, she decided to take me to rehearsal with her, where hopefully some of the singing techniques would rub off on me.

The cast was all very polite. When the rehearsal began, Maureen stood up shyly. "You guys are probably wondering why there's a thirteen year old girl here, so let me explain."

I snorted. Mo was a completely different person around these people.

She glared at me and continued. "This is my friend's daughter, Melodie. Her mom is working, and everyone else is busy, so I volunteered to have her stay with us."

"I don't need a babysitter," I grumbled, playing the part of moody, frustrated teenager.

"Yes you do," snapped Maureen, surprised but pleased that I was playing along. "So, is it ok if she sits in the back for our rehearsal?"

"Yeah, sure, I guess. We're not doing blocking today. Just music." The musical director, who was sitting at the piano, smiled at me. "I'm Tim. You know the story of RENT?"

I nodded and tried to keep myself from smirking.

"Ever seen the show?"

I shook my head. "I think I need to go to rehab for the CD, though," I added, and the cast laughed.

"Well, we'll just warm up then. Let's see how we compare, shall we?"

So they warmed up, and they were _fabulous_. No really. Even now, I haven't heard one other group of people sing so well together. They played off each other perfectly, their voices blending. Until the girl who played Maureen's voice cracked. No one stopped, though, like they did in choir. They charged onward, their high notes reaching the stratosphere, their low notes reaching the depths of hell. In the fifteen minutes that it took the cast to warm themselves up, I learned more than I had ever learned in my entire life. Maybe Maureen wasn't so stupid after all.

By the end of the day my brain hurt from all the musical knowledge that had been crammed in it. I gave Maureen a big hug, but she gently pushed me away to be able to talk to Tim. She came back to me thirty seconds later, grinning.

"You want a teacher? Well, honey, you've got the best there is." She dragged me over to the piano by the arm.

"So," said Tim, "Maureen tells me something very interesting. She tells me that your school is singing 'Seasons' and that you want a solo, but you have no teacher."

I nodded.

"Well, let's get started then," he said briskly, and began to play, singing the warm up I would be repeating. "Mommy made me mash my M&M's."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: YAY AN UPDATE! Sorry, but I've been wanting to update this FOREVER and have only just had the time to. FINALS ARE OVERRRRRRR!!!!! (Does a happy dance)**

**I could've made this into two short chapters, but in the end I decided on one long one.**

**There are two Idina references in this chapter. If you mention both of them in your review, you get a cybersticker.**

**THIMBLES! And on with the fic…**

**Saran VD**

Not the Last

_Chapter 7_

It had been a couple months since Tim had started giving me lessons, and my range grew from one and a half octaves to three. I could now sing with the tenors in choir if I really wanted to. He worked with Tonya (the woman who was actually singing the solos in the show) and I at the same time on more than one occasion, and these were the most helpful sessions of all.

After months of effort and hard work, it came time for the auditions. Almost all the girls in choir tried out for both solos, even though there was no way they would ever hit those ridiculously high notes. Several of them attempted to, and sounded like dying elephants (no, I'm not being mean, that's REALLY what they sounded like!). Up and down the rows, with maybe only half of the singers being real competition, until it was my turn.

The choir sang the end of the verse leading up to the solo, and right on cue, I came in. I let my voice soar with the high notes, hearing Tim yelling things like "More 'red'!" "Don't force your voice!" and, most importantly, "BREATHE!!!!!!!!!!" in my head. I followed the advice of the nonexistent Tim Weil, and it helped me make it to the end. Well, almost. On the one note that went god-knows-how-high, I cracked _horribly_. I tried not to cringe, and finished the song as best as I could. I sat down as quickly as I could afterward. The bell rang, and I left for algebra as fast as I could.

When everyone asked how the solo auditions went, I fibbed and said, "Fabulous."

* * *

The next morning Beth grabbed me by the wrist, all excited, and dragged me to the choir room. "Solo results!" she gasped. "I've been waiting to look until you got here!"

Honestly, Beth was one of the dying-elephant-singers, but I didn't tell her that.

I scanned the list, down past the Chamber Choir and Chorale solos to the ones marked Beginning Choir.

Beth had scraped a solo in one of our other songs, much to my surprise and her disappointment (she really wanted the "Seasons" solo). On the bottom of the paper, the solos for "Seasons of Love" were listed.

_Seasons of Love…_

First Solo: Rebecca Jones

Second Solo: Alex Jones

Third Solo: Melodie Marquez

"WHAT?!"

I pivoted around and saw Rebecca and her twin brother reading the list over my shoulder. "How did _you_ get the good solo?" she spat at me. "You _sucked_ yesterday."

"And you sounded like a dying elephant on the high notes," I said solemnly. Rebecca spluttered, opened her mouth, and closed it again. She left in a huff.

"You're right, she did sound like a dying elephant," Beth realized. "Good simile."

"Thanks," I said, not adding that I used the same simile to describe Beth's soprano range.

"But still!" She gasped, trying to hold in her obvious jealousy. "That wasn't a very good audition. What happened?"

"My throat was dry, and I didn't throw the sound forward like I should have."

"Is it okay if that sounded like a foreign language?"

"It is if you don't take voice lessons."

"You take voice lessons? How can you _afford_ them?"

"Mo's paying for them. She says that I won't be getting a birthday present until I'm at least 18, though."

Beth grinned. "I would think so."

"Well… whatever. Come on, let's go talk to Jonathan."

"Are you trying out for _Les Misérables_?" he asked us as soon as we sat down.

I blinked at Jonathan. "Why?"

"Because if you are, you only have a month to prepare. Auditions are in January, the week after winter break."

"No pressure," I muttered to myself.

"Do you want us to?" Beth asked.

"Yeah! I heard Ms. Mentzel talking about you, Mel. She was very impressed with your voice."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"What about me?" asked Beth with a pout.

"She didn't say anything about you."

She frowned.

Just in the nick of time, the bell rang to start the school day.

* * *

It was the night of our choir concert, and I was nervous. Everyone was out in the audience: Maureen, Joanne, Mamá, Roger, Mark, Benny, and Mary Sue. Even Tim and Tonya had come, which touched me, but also did nothing to help my nerves. Beth had bugged Jonathan to come, and he did, grudgingly.

"Seasons of Love" was the last song of the concert. We all stood on our risers, Alex, Rebecca, and I in the front, and Ms. Mentzel began playing the familiar intro.

The concert was described later as "flawless". When my solo came, I let the high notes fly through the auditorium. We got a standing ovation.

When Mamá asked me how I felt, I told her that I was "relieved that it was finally off of my chest." She just laughed.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So… update time! I won't be updating anything again until August, since I'm in the middle of putting together the show _Working_ (if you're wondering, I'm the cleaning woman! XD), and then we're going on vacation. And, of course, _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ comes out on Saturday, so I'm going to be reading that several times over the next couple weeks.**

**Ok, and since NO ONE got the two Idina references (actually, Diva Actress got one of them, so kudos to her!) I'll tell you what they were. Reference one: Mentzel- Idina's original last name. Reference two: Cracking really badly on an audition, yet still getting the part.**

**One more thing and then I SWEAR you'll be able to read the fic. When Melodie and Mimi speak in Spanish, I put the translation right after, just so that it's clear what she said. However, Mel and Mimi don't ever really say the English translation. Does that make sense?**

**THIMBLES! And on with the fic…**

**Saran VD**

Not the Last

_Chapter 8_

Christmas was fast approaching, and we were all looking forward to the holiday.

"Are you still having the get-together on Christmas Eve?" Beth asked me one morning before school.

I looked at her as if she was stupid. "Of course! It's our tradition."

She curled a section of her red hair around her finger. "And am I still invited?"

"Well…" I said to her, feigning thought, "maybe… YES! You've been coming to the loft for Christmas Eve ever since we were both eight! You're coming!"

She clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, goodie! What do you want for Christmas this year?"

I shrugged.

Jonathan joined us at our table. "Hey, ladies," he said, trying to sound seductive. We just laughed. "What are you two doing for Christmas?"

"Family stuff," I told him.

"Oh," he replied, looking crestfallen. "I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. That's all."

"Well…" I said, "I'd have to ask Mamá, but I'm sure you could join us."

"No, I don't want to impose…"

"Don't be ridiculous! We'd be glad to have you!" I glanced at Beth and added, "She comes every year."

"Well, what exactly does it involve?"

"Movies and a gift exchange." I didn't add that the movies were all the films that Mark had made over the years.

"And food!" piped Beth.

"I'd love to come. If I can go."

"I'm sure you can," I assured him.

"Great!" he said as the bell rang. "See you in bio!" he called to me, waved at Beth, and headed off to his first period class.

When I got home from school that afternoon, the first thing I did was ask Mamá if Jonathan could come over for Christmas Eve.

"Who's this Jonathan?" she teased. "Your boyfriend?"

"Mamá, he is _not_ my boyfriend. He's a friend of mine and Beth's."

"And you're inviting him to Christmas? Honey, are you sure he'll understand everything?" she asked me.

"Sí, Mamá, claro." I said to her. "Yes, Mamá, of course."

"You really think he'll be comfortable? We're going to the Life, you know. And then there's 'Today 4 U.'" Mamá sighed.

"He'll get it, Mamá. I promise!" I was whining, but I didn't care.

"How do you know?"

"He listens to _RENT_, Mamá."

She wavered on her feet a little. "The musical about us," she murmured.

I nodded. "So, he knows about all of it: Angel, your past-" Mamá shuddered "-everything. It'll be fine."

"But he thinks that none of it really happened. He didn't think it was about real people."

I bit my lip.

"But if you want to invite your friend, I won't stop you."

I hugged her around the waist. "Gracias, Mamá. Thanks."

"De nada. You're welcome."

I dashed off to my room to work on homework.

* * *

That Christmas Eve I took my usual seat on the floor at the base of the projector. I held the rag doll Angel had made for me on my lap as I waited impatiently for everyone to arrive.

"Calm down, Chiquita, they'll be here soon. Where's Mark?" Mamá said, scolding me and asking Roger a question all in one breath. She was standing in front of the stove, frantically trying to finish the hot chocolate.

"Dunno," said Roger. "He better be here soon. Or else Mo's in charge of the projector."

The three of us shuddered at the thought.

The buzzer rang.

"Ugh, why don't they just have us chuck down the key like we always do?" groaned Mamá. "Hello?"

"Um, yes, this is Jonathan Letherson…"

"Oh, sorry, I thought it would be someone else. Come on up." She pressed the "door open" button and turned to me. I was sitting up straighter. "I don't suppose I need to tell you that your friend is here."

I grinned, shook my head, and ran to open the door, still holding my doll in one arm.

Jonathan stood outside it in dress pants, a collared shirt, and a tie. I smirked. "You didn't have to dress like that. In fact, I don't think you should've."

He scowled at me. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Why are you dressed all yuppie?" I retorted.

"If that's how you feel, you don't get your present," he snapped.

I pouted. "All right, I don't care. Come on in." I opened the door wider and he walked in past me. He stood awkwardly just inside. "Um, where do I put this?"

"I'll take it," I said, and I threw it at Roger, who caught it, made a face, and put it on the kitchen table.

"Ok, so this is my step-dad, Roger, and over by the stove is my Mamá, Mimi." I told Jonathan, and added to him under my breath, "Call them by their first names, otherwise they'll kill you."

The phone rang. "YES!" cried Roger, and he pounced on it. I laughed, while Jonathan looked scandalized. "Hello? … Beth! I'm surprised! … No, not unhappily… Anyway, want Mel to throw down the key? … Well, can't you keep them out? … Oh, well," he said, and he gave me the keys. "See you in a minute."

I went out to the balcony, waved at Beth, Maureen, and Joanne merrily, and threw the key at them as hard as I could. Maureen shrieked and ran away from it as if it were a snake. Joanne calmly picked it up, gave me a thumbs-up, and headed inside.

"I tried, Roger," said Beth as soon as she got in, "but Joanne got the key first."

"You should've heard Mo scream," Joanne added, glaring at Beth.

"Pookie!"

"Sorry! Where's Mark?" asked the lawyer.

We all shrugged.

"Does this mean I get to work the projector?" asked Maureen, sounding delighted.

"NO!" everyone except Jonathan yelled, and then we all laughed.

"OH! Mo, Jo, this is my friend Jonathan. Jonathan, this is Maureen-" Maureen waved brightly "-and her lover, Joanne." Joanne smiled.

"Nice to meet you."

"You _still_ have Mindy?" Beth asked me, pointing at my doll.

I hugged Mindy close. "So?"

"I thought your New Year's resolution last year was to get rid of her!"

"And since when does Mel follow her New Year's resolutions?" asked Mamá, emerging from the kitchen with four mugs of hot chocolate. Beth and I rushed and each grabbed one each before she could set them down. "Hi, Beth, Mo, Jo."

"New Year's Day is my birthday! Gimme a break! Why can't I lie about that stuff?" I protested, sipping the cocoa. "Want some, Jonathan?"

He nodded, grabbed a mug, murmured his thanks, and took a sip.

"Oooh, Marky'd _better_ not be at work," Mo hissed, taking the last mug of hot chocolate. "Anyone wanna call him?"

Roger opened his mouth to reply when the phone rang. He pounced on it again. "Hello? … WHERE ARE YOU?! … Yeah, well, hurry up! Do you want Mo to break the projector? … All right, Mark, five minutes. I'm timing you!" He hung up. "Mimi, set the timer for five minutes."

Mark got to the loft in four minutes and fifty-eight seconds, holding the hand of a young woman I had never seen before. Mamá, Roger, Beth, Maureen, Joanne, and I all gaped at them.

"MARK HAS A GIRLFRIEND?!" Mamá gasped.

Mark glared at her. "Hey, guys, this is Lesley. Lesley, this is RogerMaureenJoanneMelodieMimiBeth," he said, making our names into one word.

"Lesley, are you Mark's girlfriend?" Maureen asked.

Lesley took it all in stride (Mark must've warned her about our behavior). She didn't answer at all. Instead, she walked over to the chair that Jonathan was sitting on the arm of and gave him a high five. "Hey, little cousin," she said. Her voice was light, airy, and barely audible.

"Hey, Lez," he said with a small smile.

"Mark, you're going out with Melodie's boyfriend's cousin?!" gasped Mamá.

I sprayed my mouthful of hot chocolate onto the floor, and I heard Jonathan fall over behind me. "He is _not_ my boyfriend, Mamá, for the last time!"

Jonathan struggled up and shook his head frantically, agreeing with my words.

The adults all turned to Beth, who also shook her head, though much less frantically.

"Mark!" said Roger. "We're waiting!"

"Oh, right," said Mark, blushing, and he ran off to his room. He emerged a couple minutes later with several film canisters. We whooped and cheered.

Mark bowed extravagantly and set up the first film. I took my usual seat, and Beth sat beside me. Everyone but Mark and Lesley collapsed on the couch. Mark stood by the projector, and "Today 4 U" began rolling.

I clutched Mindy tight as the scenes whisked by. Not only did this particular film help me remember Angel and Collins, but it also let me in on the secret lives of my family.

Then came the clip where Benny insisted that we film him offering Roger and Mark free rent. The funny thing that Benny never knew is that Mark was focusing the camera on everything but Benny's face.

"Melodie, is that _you_?" asked Jonathan, acting- for the first time- the way he did in the cafeteria in the mornings.

I grinned. "Yep, that's me."

He smirked. "Nice hair."

I would've thrown Mindy at him, except Angel's funeral was coming up, and I needed something to hug.

No one talked during the rest of "Today 4 U", nor during any of the other two films.

"Well," said Mamá once the last one was over, "we're all going to the Life now. You kids want to come with us or stay here."

"Stay!" Beth and I chorused. I don't know about her, but I was in no mood to watch everyone else get drunk.

Mamá kissed me goodbye, grabbed her purse, and led everyone else out the door.

Jonathan gave me an astonished look. "What was that all about?"

I sighed. "It's a long story…"


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Well, I'm updating (obviously), and lucky for you guys, I made the _winter_ play, which doesn't start daily rehearsals until just before Halloween. Until then, I should be pretty on top of updating... so enjoy!**

THIMBLES! And on with the fic... 

**Saran VD**

Not the Last  
_Chapter 9_

Jonathan stared at me. We had just finished listening to _RENT_. "What was the point of that?"

I ignored his skeptical tone. "You clearly have a hard time thinking outside the box."

He still looked confused.

"This one," I said to Beth, jabbing my thumb in Jonathan's direction and sighing dramatically.

"What? What did I do?" he asked, now looking worried.

"Nothing. That's the problem," said Beth frankly.

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" Beth asked, swelling like a bullfrog. She abruptly stopped and turned to me. "What _do_ I mean?"

"You mean why is he so slow on the uptake," I offered.

"What uptake?" was all he said.

"See?"

The phone rang, saving us all from this circular conversation. "Let the machine pick up."

"Speeeeeeeeeaaaaaak!" went the machine, and the voices of Roger, Mark, Mamá, and I.

I think that the machine was what finally knocked everything in place in Jonathan's brain. "The... adda... wibba... _speak_?!?!?!?!?!"

I shushed him and tried to figure out who was calling.

"Hey," said the voice, one I had last heard that September. Benny. "Melodie, Mimi, Roger, Mark, any of you guys there? If not, well, I was going to drop Mel's present off, but I guess I can wait-"

I'm not normally a greedy person. In fact, if it were anyone else saying they'd have to wait to give me a present, I wouldn't care. But let me say that Benjamin Coffin III gives me the best presents every year at Christmas and my birthday (although they are often not separate gifts, but I don't care about that). I grabbed the phone. "Hello, Benny."

"Melodie! Is Mimi there?" He sounded anxious,

"No, Mamá isn't home right now." Me? I was just annoyed that he always wanted to see Mamá and didn't care about me, really.

"Where is she?"

"She's at the Life with Roger and Mark and everyone."

"Well, can I still come over there for a bit?"

"Yeah, Mamá would be fine with that. She never cared before."

There were muffled shrieks in the background. "Can Mary Sue come?" Benny asked.

I had a feeling that he already knew the answer. I _despised_ my little half-sister, with her perfect bouncy curls and her nice, rich friends, and her tea parties, and how her parents weren't dying, and she was just so good at everything, and no matter how hard I tried Benny would always see her as the "better" daughter, even though she was just a pampered spoiled brat. Mary Sue was my ten-year-old rival, and I let no one forget it.

"No," I said sharply.

There were sobs. "She really wants to come," he said. "She never gets to see you."

"Well, good for her! I _really_ don't like her, Benny. If Mary Sue comes, I won't be there when you two arrive. I hate her."

"Melodie Isabel Marquez, just for that she _will_ be coming with me." Whoops and cheers. See what I mean about her being a pampered spoiled brat?

I said nothing and hung up in protest.

"Benny?" asked Beth.

"Yeah. He's coming over. With Mary Sue." By habit I said her name in a tone of disgust.

"Ouch, I'm sorry." Thank you, Beth. "But, she's not so bad, you know. She's like every other ten-year-old."

Let me take that thank you back. "I wasn't like that when I was ten."

Beth sighed. "Mel, you weren't a normal ten-year-old. You gave up on throwing temper tantrums when you were three, because no matter how hard you sobbed and cried, Mimi would never get you that American Girl doll that you wanted so badly, because she couldn't afford it."

She was right. The only reason I wasn't just like Mary Sue is because I didn't have the economic resources to be as spoiled as she was. "But I did get the doll in the end." And indeed, the Addy doll was still sitting on top of my dresser, gathering dust.

"Because your father gives in to tantrums. Which is how Mary Sue ended up spoiled in the first place."

The phone rang again. I didn't answer at all: I just tossed down the keys, too hard, and accidentally-on-purpose almost hit Mary Sue in the face. Lucky for me, Benny didn't notice.

Mary Sue didn't notice either. She just thought it was an honest mistake, and that I really wasn't _trying_ to hit her in the face. Ha! She grinned, and waved, and ran over to the entrance, which was on the other side of the building.

"Melodiiiie!!!!!" she squealed as she entered the apartment about a minute later. She tried to throw her arms around my waist, but I didn't let her. She ran over to Beth instead, who was surprised, but gave my sister a hug anyway.

"Daddy! Beth gave me a hug!" she squealed as Benny followed her through the door.

"Great," said Benny, and I could tell he was trying hard to sound like he cared.

Mary Sue turned shyly to me, her big round hazel eyes all shimmery and sad looking. "You didn't give me a hug..."

I gave Benny a "do I have to?" look, and he nodded. I grudgingly gave my sister a hug, if you want to call it that.

"Oooooooooh, who's that?" she asked me, trying to sound grown-up. "Is that your _boyfriend_, Mellie?"

"Mary Sue, first off, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, do _not_ call me Mellie." No one but Mark got to call me Mellie. "And, no, Jonathan's _not_ my boyfriend." How many times would I have to say that in the next twenty-four hours?

Mary Sue gave him a hug, too. "Hi!"

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "Erm, hi Mary Sue..."

"Is she going to open the present now, Daddy?" she asked Benny.

"If she wants to," he said, giving me a surprisingly heavy package wrapped in holographic wrapping paper adorned with ornaments. "Happy, _quinceañera_, Melodie."

I tore a tiny corner of the paper off, just enough to read the label on the side of the box. "OH MY GOD!" I quickly tore the rest of the paper off as fast as I could.

It was a small laptop computer. Nothing fancy, 12 inch screen, but it was a lot better than the ancient computer that I had to share with Mark, who used it to edit his films and took up all the memory in the process. The only drawback was that it was bright pink.

"Mary Sue helped pick it out," said Benny, clearly trying to make me like her more.

It didn't work. "She chose the pink, didn't she?"

"Yeah!" said Mary Sue. "I think it's cool!"

Benny smiled apologetically. "It wouldn't have been my first choice. If she hadn't insisted on getting you the pink one, you could've gotten more memory or a bigger screen or a better hard-drive. But you know Mary Sue." He gave his favorite daughter a fond smile.

As I stared at the picture on the box, I could see why Mary Sue thought it was so cool. No one else would have a pink computer, and that way Mark wouldn't try to take it over once he ate up the memory on his. I smiled at my sister. "Thanks, Mary Sue."

"Well, we have to go." Benny took Mary Sue's hand. "See you some other time."

"Bye!" chirped Mary Sue.

"Wait! Benny! Can you give us a ride to the Life?"

He stared at me. "You want to go to the Life?"

"We all do!"

"We do?" asked both Beth and Jonathan.

"Yes! We haven't been to the Life Café with everyone on Christmas Eve since we were, like, ten!"

"And Collins was there then!" Beth replied. "Wouldn't it be kinda weird?"

I didn't think about that. "Well, we'll be old enough to get their jokes now."

"I'll go," said Jonathan. "I've been wanting to ever since they mentioned it in _RENT_."

I glared at Benny. "No thanks to him."

Benny smiled sheepishly. "I guess I can manage. Are you sure it's all right with everyone, Melodie?"

"Mamá gave us the option of going in the first place."

"Okay then. Make sure the doors are locked." He turned on his heel and headed downstairs, Mary Sue following like a devoted puppy. Jonathan, Beth, and I followed.


	10. Chapter 10

**HEY ALL!!!!**

**I know I'm not supposed to write only Author's note chapters, but I thought that the following needed to be said.**

**FIRST! all of my in-progress RENT fics are officially up for adoption (you ASK ME FOR PERMISSION, and then can take a story and continue it yourself... just credit me for the original idea, ok???) EXCEPT THIS ONE. I'm going to be doing a MAJOR rewrite on it, so it shall be posted as a new story sometime in the near future. Ok, ok.**

**The main reason that I'm doing this is that I have a different view of the characters now than I did when I began many of these... I look at their personalities differently, so the only way I could get the fics to work was to completely rewrite them all (and I'm NOT doing that, just because it would take too long...). Why the change in viewpoint, you ask? Welll....**

***drumroll***

**RENT is my school's musical next year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *happy dance***

**Yes, you read that correctly, and I have video to prove it. SO THERE.**

**And on that note...**

**That took a lot less time then I thought. If you want to adopt a fic, please say which one in your review, and I'll let you know ASAP. Thank you for reading this, and i'm very very sorry.**

**THIMBLES!  
Saran VD**


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